Friday, November 9, 2007

The Holy Spirit is persistent. He nagged me all day as I rubbed shoulders with strangers around RussVegas and on campus. And somehow, I feel proud of myself for the three people with whom I shared the gospel.

The first: a pretty pathetic attempt at boldness, when I handed the cashier in the Goodwill a million dollar bill and told her to turn it over and read the million dollar question on the back. “It’s a gospel tract” I said. “Neat,” she answered, tucking it into her cash drawer. “I’ll show it to my boss.”

The second: over lunch in the Caf, a friend of April’s named Justin who sat across from me—a nervous, little art student who actually spoke to me first. I launched in mercilessly over the din and dinner, but when I wound up by asking him if he wanted to do something about his eternal welfare he said softly, “I—I think I’m fine. Thanks.” After he’d confessed that he was damned and headed to hell and that concerned him, I couldn’t help blurting out, “You think you’re fine heading for hell?” Quiet for a long time. Obviously, he didn’t hold it against me, since he struck up a conversation in a different thread after a while and we parted company amiably.

The third: arrived at the dental clinic, folks were signing up for Free Day tomorrow, and a Latino man was discussing with Papa about making his last payment on his bill. He needed some change, and when Papa went inside to retrieve it, I handed him a million dollar bill and engaged him in some conversation about it. He said he used to believe, but now there is anger in his heart. He’s been waiting for the Lord to do something to show him that he ought to serve Him. When Papa returned with the change, he held up the bill, “Look! I just became a millionaire.” Ricardo was his name, and he struggled with not understanding when he read the Bible. Papa gave him his telephone number and asked him to call sometime.

I know three is a start. In retrospect, I can only dwell on all those missed opportunities—those promptings I ignored. The multiple guys who hung around trying to help me in Lowe’s, no doubt because at eight o’clock in the morning, there’s very little else to do. Or the ladies at the counter who engaged me in friendly conversation. How many people did I walk right past in Wal-Mart? There were students everywhere on campus, relaxing and having fun because class was out for the week. I carried the message of Life Eternal in my purse and heart and I walked right past them.

Why am I so hesitant to obey? I’m pumped about tomorrow—an easy chance to share the gospel—but I pass up easy chances nearly every day. And I ignore the spiritual darkness in some of those I love the most.

Lord, today I ached for three

While millions more were lost to Thee.

The weight of few is such a load

How could Thou bear Golgotha’s road?

And Lord, so few ache for a few,

If only Thou would raise anew

A horde of harvesters to toil

And spread the word on fruitful soil.

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